


The Promise

by bewaretheboojum



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewaretheboojum/pseuds/bewaretheboojum
Summary: Written for JayTimWeek2020 Day 1 - BakeryJason is hungry and meets a very nice baker who feeds him.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 32
Kudos: 153
Collections: JayTimWeek





	The Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to strawberryjei and FictionSuit for the beta help! They are both amazing <333

Year - 3498

Exhaustion made Jason's limbs feel heavy as he trudged down the roadway, glancing around at the small shops and pubs that dotted the main street of the village. Hooves of horses and the wheels of carts along with human feet kicked dust up into the dry morning air, making Jason cough.

Blinking through the grit, Jason felt a cold wind kick up. The leather of his armor kept his chest warm, but the chill cut through the thin cloth covering his arms and legs. Slipping a hand in his pocket, Jason felt around futilely.

Just a few coins clinked in his pocket, not enough for a full meal in a pub. Not if he wanted to sleep indoors tonight. The day was cold and there had been a frost the night before. Jason really didn't want to spend another night sleeping rough, waking to frost clinging to his hair.

He wouldn't get his wages for another two days and he needed the coin to last. While a nice meal at the pub sounded wonderful right now, Jason was going to need to be a bit more frugal. 

Thinking dreamily about fried eggs and warm potatoes, Jason caught the scent of fresh baking brown bread in the air. A loaf of bread, maybe some rolls would tide him over until he got his wages and could afford something a little more substantial.

Making his way to the small shop with a simple sign proclaiming Drake's Bakery, Jason pushed inside. Warm, humid air carried the scent of proofing yeast and sweet baking cakes. The edges of the large window panes were thick with condensation from the heat inside the small shop.

Jason shivered, happy to be out of the cold. He felt like he was warming up again for the first time in weeks.

The counter-tops in the bakery were covered with baskets of breads, rolls, cakes, cookies, scones, and muffins. No one was standing behind the counter when Jason stepped inside, but after a few short minutes of Jason eyeing the bread hungrily, a young man came out from the area in the back that no doubt held his ovens.

The man looked to be just a few years younger than Jason. He had long black hair tied back with a piece of twine, and a white apron that was liberally splotched with frosting and flour. He looked a little too thin to be a baker, but he smiled a welcome to Jason.

"Hello, how can I help you?" he asked, his voice warm and friendly.

"I was, uh... What have you…” Jason began and then just decided to be honest. “Frankly, I don't have a lot of coin right now, so is there an inexpensive loaf of bread I can..."

Jason trailed off as the young man’s pleasant expression shifted into a frown. His blue eyes watched Jason curiously, taking in his armor and the thick sword strapped to his back.

"Are you... Did you come from the border skirmishes?" the baker asked. “Are you a fighter there?”

Jason grimaced and nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I've been battling out at the border for a few weeks now. I'm off duty for a few days and..."

"And our Lord isn't especially good at paying his accounts on time," the baker finished for him with a frown.

“You sound familiar with the problem,” Jason said with a wry smile.

The young man puffed out a sigh and nodded.

“He’s missed a fair share of payments for my cakes,” he said with a grimace. He reached out and flipped up a section of the counter, gesturing for Jason to step behind it. "Come, I have a few cinnamon buns just coming from the oven and a pot of tea steeping."

"You sell... tea too?" Jason asked, stepping behind the counter and catching the spicy sweet scent of the cinnamon rolls.

"I don't sell tea," the baker said. "But drinking it by myself is a little lonely. I'd be glad for the company."

The baker led Jason to a small table with a chipped red earthenware teapot and a pan of cinnamon buns. He poured out two mugs of tea and gestured for Jason to sit.

Pulling his sword from his back, Jason hung it on the back of the chair before sitting across from the baker. The young man pulled a bun off a pan and plated it, sliding it over to Jason. 

It looked very good, thick yeasty bread oozing cinnamon sugar with a healthy dollop of frosting on top. Jason felt his stomach start to growl but he couldn’t help but wonder about the cost. Sugar wasn’t always easy to find these days and the baker must be charging a premium for goods like this.

Jason had been expecting to get something simple. Day old bread or some misshapen rolls...

"How much are--?" Jason began to ask nervously but the young man cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"I have some left over from a large order for the Lord. So, no charge," the baker explained, handing Jason a mug of steaming hot tea. 

Jason eyed him cautiously and shook his head.

"I don't need charity--"

The baker snorted as he took a long sip of his tea. He lifted an eyebrow at Jason over the rim of his mug.

“Let’s just consider it a small advance on your wages, shall we? These are leftovers from his order, after all,” the young man said, giving Jason a sly smile.

Jason huffed out a laugh and took a sip of his tea. 

“Besides, you're the only thing keeping my bakery from being ransacked by the barbarians trying to annex this territory," the baker said wryly. "I owe you far more than a couple of cinnamon buns."

"I--" Jason began and then swallowed hard, shaking his head. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Let me know how the buns are. I used a new recipe," the baker said.

The cinnamon bun was as good as it looked, warm and soft, the spices blending perfectly with the sticky sweetness of the frosting covering the top.

They talked amiably then, as they ate and drank their tea. Jason learned the man's name was Tim. That he had moved to this village only two years ago but didn't feel like he quite fit in yet. His bakery was affording him a nice profit, but he was often lonely, missing his brothers and sisters.

Jason told Tim about how he had joined the Rangers when he was young. How he expected to be spending his time roaming through the woods and stopping poachers. How he hadn't expected to be involved in battles at the borders and how he hoped it would all end soon.

"I hope it does, too," Tim agreed in a soft sort of voice. He was staring, unseeing, through a fogged up window. His expression was lonely, almost forlorn.

Jason wished he knew what to say to make that expression to go away.

"Thank you," was all Jason could think to say. "For the food and the company."

Tim smiled at him, almost sadly.

"Of course," the baker said in a soft, gentle voice. "You're always welcome here, Jason."

^*^*^*^*^

Year - 3498

Tim could smell smoke in the air as he hurried from the market back to his bakery. As he unlocked the door to his small shop, he looked up in the direction of the forest that defined the border of the territory. A thick, billowing cloud of smoke came up over trees.

Puffing out a worried breath, Tim pushed through the door and flipped his sign to indicate he was open again. Tim lugged his bags, heavy with spices, flour and fruits, to the back of his bakery. He set them down in one corner and stoked up the fire under his ovens. He had dampened it before he headed out to the shops and he hoped it would not take long before his ovens came back up to the correct temperature.

It was just after dawn and he had dough proofing in one corner, the thick yeasty smell of it filling the air. He took a deep breath and tried to let the familiar scent sooth him.

When Tim had moved to this village a little over three years ago, the town had been peaceful. He had thought it would be a good place to make a name for himself as a baker. A year later, war had broken out. Now the barbarians inched ever closer to the village.

Turning to check the progress of his bread, Tim peeked under the warm cloths covering the large bowls of proofing dough. Deciding they still needed a few minutes, Tim went to flour his loaf pans.

Tim hummed to himself, trying to keep busy and keep his mind off of how dangerous things had gotten at the border.

And how long it had been since he had seen Jason.

Jason joked that Tim must be putting something addictive in his frostings. That he just couldn't stay away from Tim's shop. After his first visit, when they ate cinnamon buns and drank tea, Jason came to see him at least once a month.

It had been more than six weeks since he saw the man last and he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't at least a little bit worried.

While they had shared many meals at this point, trying to send a letter over to him at the border felt a little presumptuous but...

There was never much news from the border. Their Lord tried to keep information away from the townsfolk for the most part, trying to avoid starting a panic. But rumors made their way back to the village and everyone knew that the combat had become more vicious, bloodier. Swords and shields gave way to fires and trebuchets. Spears and arrows dotted the fields.

Even from the village, they could all see the fires on the battlefields burning late into the nights. The air was thick with smoke now.

Tim checked his dough again. He was relieved that it looked ready because now he had an excuse to take out some of his frustrations on the dough. Kneading it down again, Tim readied the dough, covered it with egg-wash and slipped all the loaves into the oven.

By the time all the bread was in, Tim's morning customers were pushing through his door, calling for buns and bread and donuts. Tim did his best to put on a cheerful face, smiling at them, greeting them warmly. They all smiled back but there was worry at the corners of everyones' eyes.

Glad for the distraction, Tim helped his customers pick out bread for dinner and treats for their children. They all smiled bravely, but as they left they told Tim in hushed voices to be careful.

They smelled the smoke, too.

Tim was packing an order for the local pub when the bell at his door rang.

"I'll be right with you," Tim called, working to keep his voice pleasant as he stacked boxes.

"Take your time!" Jason's voice called back to him.

"Jay!" Tim cried, his heart leaping suddenly. He dropped the rest of the buns he was packing into the box and rushed out to the front of the shop.

Jason was standing there, framed by Tim's large plate glass window. He looked clean and healthy. No sign of injury or illness. He stood straight and tall. His hair was pulled back in a tight bun and his beard was neatly trimmed. His clothes looked clean and while he wasn't wearing any armor, his sword was strapped to his back. He had a small, fond smile on his face as he caught sight of Tim.

Tim flipped up the hinged section of the counter and rushed out. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around Jason in a firm hug. Jason hugged him back. Thick, well-muscled arms coming up around Tim and pulling him in close to Jason's chest. Tim pressed his face into Jason's shoulder and he swallowed hard against the flood of emotion washing through him.

"I've been worried," Tim babbled, looking up at Jason, needing to see him. "There's been so much smoke and I haven't had word from you in weeks..."

"Hey, I'm ok," Jason said soothingly. He reached out a hand to cup Tim's cheek gently. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against Tim's. "I'm ok."

"I'm... I'm glad," Tim said, looking up at Jason and swallowing hard. He felt his heartbeat quicken and his face flush as Jason smiled gently down at him. "I'm so glad you're ok."

They stood like that for a long time, just holding each other. Relief and affection and warmth washing between them in the thick air. Jason's body felt solid, real, present in Tim's arms. He didn't smell of smoke or blood. Just of good clean sweat and well worn leather.

He was here.

And he was safe.

"I'm just so glad you're here," Tim whispered to him.

"Me too," he whispered back and placed a warm, soft kiss to Tim's forehead.

^*^*^*^*^*^

Year - 3502

Jason couldn't help but think about how different the village looked than it had when just a few years ago. The buildings had gotten larger and taller over the years. Hastily built structures gave way to nicely appointed shops. Windows, awnings, paint, and colorful roofs all transformed the little village into something that looked much more...

Homey.

Jason had, over the past few years, distinguished himself in the border wars. His armor went from thick leather to dull iron to brilliantly polished bronze as he worked his way up through the ranks.

Today, Jason was wearing the tailored finery appropriate for a meeting with his Lord. He had been fawned over, knighted, and given lands and property that would give him a much better life than he had ever dreamed.

The villagers all recognized him by now and gave him airy waves as he passed by on foot. Jason couldn't help but think of his first few visits to the town where the people who lived and worked there gave him a wide berth. Now they called his name and grinned at him as he walked down the main street.

Drake's Bakery looked the same as it always had. Small, neatly appointed, with a large dark blue awning over the door.

It was a warm late summer afternoon, so the plate glass window wasn't covered in the condensation Jason was accustomed to seeing. Looking through the large pane, Jason could see Tim chatting amiably to one of the villagers as he helped her select loaves of bread and some cookies for her children.

His blue eyes were intent and he smiled kindly at the women. Jason knew he would slip her a few extra treats for her children. He always did.

Jason waited for the woman to leave before slipping into the bakery. When the bell hanging on Tim's door rang, Tim looked up from rearranging some cookies to greet him with a warm smile.

"Don't you look fancy," Tim teased, crinkling his nose in amusement.

His apron was covered in patches of frosting, a smudge of what looked like chocolate was near his nose and flour was sprinkled across his forehead.

"Then why don't I feel fancy?" Jason asked, grinning at Tim.

Tim laughed and shook his head.

"How did it go with the Lord?" Tim asked, using a corner of his apron to clean his hands

"It went better than I expected it to," Jason said, excitedly.

"Oh?" Tim asked, curiously.

"Yes, can you close up shop for a few hours? I have something to show you."

Tim looked up at him curiously before nodding. He banked the fires in his ovens, pulled off his apron, and changed into his walking boots. Then he flipped his sign over to Closed and followed Jason to his horse.

Jason had a thoroughbred chestnut mare that he spoiled. She was big for her breed, with a glossy coat and big brown eyes. 

Jason climbed on the back of his horse and pulled Tim up after him. They rode a little over twenty minutes, out into a lush clearing in the forestland just outside of the village.

Climbing off the horse, he reveled in the feeling of Tim in his arms as he helped Tim climb down. Wrapping his arms around Jason's neck, Tim looked around the clearing curiously.

"Are we... having a picnic?" he asked, as he got his feet under him.

"Do you like this spot?" Jason asked him.

"For a picnic?" Tim asked, still eyeing the trees all around them.

"What if it was for more than a picnic..." Jason ventured, keeping one arm around Tim's waist as he looked around. Tim didn't seem to mind.

The thick canopy of trees gave a greenish cast to the light that streamed down from the sun above. An ovenbird sang out it's lilting call in the thick underbrush, breaking through the low burble of a small nearby spring. The scent of wild onions and fertile loam was in the air all around them.

"More than a picnic?" Tim asked hesitantly, looking curiously up at Jason.

Jason suddenly felt unaccountably nervous. His throat felt thick and tight and butterflies danced in his stomach.

He had rehearsed what he would say to Tim in this moment. He had rehearsed for days, weeks.

If he was being truly honest with himself, maybe he knew this conversation was coming the first time he had seen Tim’s shy, welcoming smile.

And now...

Now that the moment had come...

Jason felt terrified.

"What about a home?" Jason asked, voice thick and breath coming faster than he would have liked. "This is my land now, the Lord just granted it to me for my help with the border wars. I was thinking of building here. Just a small house. For two. With a brick oven over there by the brook for your baking..."

He was too nervous to meet Tim's eyes, looking out across the clearing instead, imaging the home he would build for them both.

Tim hummed softly, but he shifted slightly, moving in closer to Jason. He pressed his hip to Jason's upper thigh and looked out at the clearing consideringly.

"What about a garden?" Tim mused. "Do you think one would fit over there, by the weeping cherry trees?"

Jason felt his heart leap in his chest. He swallowed hard and his eyes prickled in a way that made him blink hard before looking down at Tim.

"I think we could also have a garden..."

"And fruit trees?"

"I will plant you all of the fruit trees your heart desires."

"Do you promise?" Tim asked and his voice was low and soft and serious. It was clear from his eyes that Tim wasn't looking for a promise about fruit trees.

Jason got down on one knee in front of Tim, taking both of Tim's hands in his own.

"Timothy Drake, I promise I will give you anything you could ever want, so long as you live here. With me."

A small smile hovered at the corners of Tim's mouth and leaned down to press a soft kiss at Jason's temple before he spoke.

"Then, yes. This seems like the perfect place for a home."


End file.
